


Disaster

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: a little brother stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-14 17:26:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15393732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: A rescue gone bad turns into a very short-term kidnapping.





	Disaster

          It's a late night already when Jason decides to hit a bar. Or early morning. He's not really sure. He gets three shots of whiskey before just asking the bartender for the bottle. He looks a bit concerned, but he doesn't say anything. Jason is too tired to care. He takes a long swig before tossing some cash on the table and leaving, shoving his helmet under his arm.

          He's assaulted by a human patch of sunshine the moment he walks out. He takes another long drink to try to rid himself of the migraine that accompanies him. 

          "It's a bit early for drinking, isn't it, Hood?"

          Jason huffs, turning towards his apartment as he puts his helmet back on. "It's five o'clock somewhere."

          He hears a casual ' _Tt_ ' and has to bite back a snarky remark when Bruce's mini says this: "If he can't even take proper care of himself, why are we requesting his help?"

          Jason stops, boot scuffing the pavement. "Listen, Short Stack. I don't answer to you. Not to Nightding, and especially not B. The way I spend my free time is none of your concern."

          Dick tilts his head. "'Nightding'. I think I'm offended."

          "Good. Does that mean you've going to leave me alone now?"

          Jason takes that moment to duck into and alley and climb to the roof of the next building over. Nightwing calls after him, but Jason isn't listening. He hoofs it for a few blocks, glancing behind him to make sure he's ditched the two dingbats. Unfortunately, in his run, he had to part ways with his whiskey.

          "Hood, would you stop running, please?"

          Jason skids to a stop, seeing Dick directly in front of him. "And why would I do that?"

          "Because you're exhausted, and you've been drinking and I'm afraid you might fall off a building if you keep this up."

          "It wouldn't be the first time. And I'm not _that_ drunk."

          "Yeah, but if you fall off a building, we won't have time to rescue Red Robin." Dick insists. 

          Jason pauses. "Rescue? What is he caught up in this time?"

          Nightwing frowns. "Don't you remember? He was coming over to your place to work on your Wii. I still don't understand why you play that thing."

          "Because it's cheap." Jason shrugs. "How is the little bird getting caught my problem?"

          " _Tt._ Because it was your people who ambushed him."

          Jason is not ashamed to admit that he jumps away from the tiny demon standing next to him. Jason swears, pulling out a gun and checking the clip. He mocks the two standing next to him under his breath as he goes through his jacket. Once he's satisfied that he has enough firepower, he gestures to Dick to lead the way. 

          "Good. Thanks for your help, Jay."

          "Names, dingding." Jason growls. 

          Dick shakes his head, but he's smiling. "You're so mean to me, little bro. I just don't find that fair."

          Jason grumbles under his breath. "Can we just go already?"

          Dick offers no resistance, taking off over the tops of the buildings with urgency. Tim must be in more trouble than they let on. Jason leaps a building gap, landing in a crouch. Damian lands next to him as he breaks into a run again, easily catching up to Dick as he leisurely does acrobatics while he runs. Jason slides over a huge air conditioning unit and turns to make sure Baby Bird makes it over. 

          Barely.

          He keeps moving, wondering if they're there yet. Jason's hands get a bit tingly and he feels warm, but he ignores it for the time being. Okay, so maybe he's more drunk than he thought, but it's not about to stop him. 

          He doesn't need Dick to tell him when they arrive, since there's fresh blood on the street below and three throwing stars in the wall.  _Aw, Red._   _At least you put up a fight._

          They rappel down to ground level and stare at the front of the warehouse. Jason shrugs his shoulders, opening the door and stepping inside without a moment's hesitation. 

          Tim is tied to a pole in the back of the room, his nose bleeding. They left his mask on, at least. 

          The group of men are crowded around him, kicking him. He curls onto his side as much as he can and Jason clears his throat. 

          They turn. "Oh, hey boss! We caught a little bird on your turf and decided-"

          Jason's tone is ice. " _You_ decided, did you?"

          The leader's jaw clicks shut and he nods mutely. A newby turns his gun on him, hands shaking so bad that Jason thinks he might just shoot him on accident. 

          "Drop the gun, kid." Jason snaps. 

          He jumps, the weapon clattering to the floor. 

          "Now, any reasonable mobster knows that their  _boss_ makes the decisions, not them, yeah?"

          They all nod, swallowing or shaking.

          "So, I'm going to let you slide, just this once.  _Cross me,_ and my face will be the last thing you ever see. Now GET OUT!"

          They yelp and scramble to do his bidding, flocking out the door without even noticing Nightwing and Robin standing outside with dumbfounded expression on their faces. 

          Jason shrugs, approaching the pole where Tim is tied. "Hey there, Red."

          He stirs, the eyes of his mask turning on Jason. "Hood."

          Jason is pulling Tim up when Dick and Damian fly into the building at warp speed. "It's a trap! They weren't running away! They were getting reinforcements!"

          "Can you walk?" Jason asks.

          Tim shakes his head and Jason passes him off to Dick. They're headed out the back when the firing starts. Dick and Tim are in the clear, but when the door shuts, it locks into place. Jason and Damian are trapped inside. He grabs Damian and throws him behind some wooden crates, using his huge mass to cover him. Damian isn't happy about it, but he doesn't fight him on it either. 

          There's a pause and Jason pushes Damian back down as he tries to crawl out from under him. "Stay put. They aren't finished." 

          Damian clicks his tongue just as a rocket launcher takes out the warehouse door. Jason is pelted with debris as another one explodes against the back wall, the ceiling creaking as its support beams disappear. Jason glances up, seeing a metal beam about to crash down over them. He lets it fall on his shoulders, holding it up off the ground and away from Damian. The roof starts to cave and Jason sees an opening. He shoves the beam off and picks Damian up. 

          "Hood, what are you-!"

          Jason throws him up into the air. The kid maybe weighs eighty pounds. Damian catches on, climbing as the roof crumbles under his feet and he moves out of sight. A hoarse shout of pain leaves him as a piece of concrete takes him down and he finds himself pinned. He forces down panic as his head swims, nausea rising in his stomach.

          For once, he agrees with Dick. Maybe it was, in fact, a little early for drinking. 

          He struggles to get free before more comes down and crushes him. As he's pushing, his left arm screams with pain. Jason gets the piece up far enough to turn over and he pushes himself out from under it, the rest of the building coming down around him. 

          When the dust settles, Jason is resting on top of the piece that almost crushed him. His breathing is a labored wheeze, but he doesn't have the energy to pull his helmet off. Unfamiliar hands grab onto him and he knows that he's screwed as they drag him away. His vision swims as pain pounds throughout his body, ribs probably cracked to some extent and his arm most likely shattered. They tie his hands in front of him, unaware of when Jason blacks out because of the pain for a minute.

          He's tossed into a trunk and they start to drive right away. Jason, even as dazed as he is, counts the seconds in between turns, trying to calculate speed. Thinking as hard as he is is making him nauseous again. 

          The car skids to the side, jostling Jason enough that he loses his sense of direction. He hears glass shatter just as the car hits a speed bump going infinitely faster than they should be. Jason hits the lid of the trunk, groaning. He feels the trunk lid, looking for the release. He can't find it, assuming they tore it out. There's a hole where it should be, but nothing is in it. His arm hurts too much to keep messing with it.

          He can't turn over, the trunk too small for him in all reality. It's almost comical. If he could turn over, he might have been able to just kick it open, but there's no way that's happening now. 

          With a sickening jolt, Jason realizes how small the space is. He'd only taken it in as bad when he couldn't move, and now it's  _really, really bad._ He starts to panic a little bit, searching his person for his phone. When he can't find it, his breaths start to draw short and he starts to hyperventilate. He scoots as far back as he can to open up the space a little, but he doesn't get far.

           _What kind of car is this?! Who could even use this trunk?_

          The thought sobers him a bit, making him laugh despite the circumstances. He tries to call out on his comm, but no one responds, only static on his end. It must have broken when the building came down. 

          After a bit of fast driving, Jason thinks that they might have gotten away from his brothers. Dread settles into his stomach just as the car flips. Jason feels weightless for a few moments before the car smashes back onto the road, flipping end over end. Jason finds himself appreciative of the small space for the first time since being thrown in the trunk. It's probably the safest place in the car, aside from the fact that it's being crushed inwards with every flip. He bites down on his lip to hold back a scream as his arm is munged beneath him. Jason wonders if the movement will ever stop with how fast they had been going, his chest throbbing.

          The car slams into something, Jason's head thudding against the cushioned back of his helmet. It still hurts a good deal and he groans, giving himself a shake. It takes him a bit to realize that the car is at an awkward angle. He shifts his weight to see if he can get the trunk end to come down and it comes down hard. He bites back another scream, hoarse breaths heaving out of his nose. He tastes blood and knows that he bit his tongue. 

          The trunk is pried open and one Dick Grayson pulls him out of the wreckage. Baby Bird does his best to carry Jason's legs, but, again, he's pretty tiny. They put him down on the sidewalk and pull his helmet off. Sweat drips down his face and he looks up at them through his mask. 

          He smiles, his teeth bloody. "Some ride, huh?" Jason looks at Dick's costume and he's covered in dust. "What were you doing?"

          "We were right next to the building when it went down."

          Jason squints at him, his figure distorting a bit. Dick looks him over for a head wound when Jason numbly tells him that he looks very blurry. Dick informs him that he has a concussion, but it's not too bad. Jason's response is an eloquent 'huh'. 

          When he relaxes a bit, he pulls his injured arm close to him, licking his lips. He wheezes a little, his ribs aching and hurting with every breath. Dick helps him walk from the scene, Damian trailing behind them to make sure there's no funny business. 

          "How's Red?"

          "He's fine. Pretty banged up, but he'll recover."

          "Good, good."

          "What about you?"

          "Broken arm. Cracked ribs. Breathing sucks. If my head didn't hurt so bad, I'd be chasing myself some mobsters."

          "You say that like this isn't the first time something like this has happened."

          Jason is suspiciously silent.

          "Really, Hood? How do you ever control anyone if they all want to kill you?"

          "I remind them why I'm in charge. You know. Bust a few ribs, shoot a few people. Let heads roll."

          Dick sighs. "We're really going to need to have a talk about your habit of casual murder."

          "No, we're really not."

          "Jay-"

          "One, names. Two, you don't get to judge my life decisions because you don't like them. Three, my head hurts, so just take me home."

          Dick is quiet. "Fine. But we're taking you to Leslie beforehand."

          "Red's there?"

          Dick nods. "Tim is there. You can nurse your headache soon."

          Jason chuckles. "This should be fun. Hangover and a concussion as the same time."

          "You're definition of fun could use an update."

          Jason shrugs. "You're just boring."


End file.
